Morikami Sukeji, who came to America as a member of the Yamato Colony in South Florida and remained there alone until the end of his life after the colony was dissolved, continues to write letters to his sister-in-law and her family, who lost her husband (Sukeji's younger brother) after the war. In 1970, he gazes upon the success of Japan's World Expo from afar and recounts his memories of the time he spent in Kyogoku, Kyoto, before going to America. That year, he learns of his niece's desire to come to America with him, and he gives her various advice and gets excited about making it happen.
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<Lying down and reminiscing>
January 31, 1970
Thank you for your letter, Mi-san (sister-in-law). I understand how you feel. To tell the truth, I thought it was just a slightly worse case of measles, so I didn't pay it much attention. It seems to be similar to the German measles that is going around the world now. It is said to be quite malignant and has caused quite a few deaths.
Even so, I'm glad that XX didn't come here. Right now, Florida is like a dumping ground for sick people, and there are not enough hospitals or doctors. I've been taking a rest recently because I have a cold. The damage to our crops is unexpected, and may amount to more than $10,000.
○○ hates America. He wasn't happy about my naturalization. Although it was indirect, he owes what he is now to this country. If I hadn't come to this country, he wouldn't have been able to do anything, I told him, and he was wrong. I never got a reply. Not only that, but I never got a New Year's card, which he always sends every year. I kept quiet.
You didn't say anything either, and only recently, after two years, you sent me a couple of letters, but you pretended not to know anything about my naturalization. I kept quiet. I also told my niece, Reiko, but she didn't say anything either. Akiko (niece) was an excellent person... and I loved her with all my heart. Everyone has misunderstandings and mistakes. If there are any, there's no choice but to apologize. Otherwise, they will take root forever. It's cold again this morning. It's just after 8 o'clock, but the north wind is blowing hard.
As I get older, my tastes change, and I quickly get bored of reading books that I used to love, and TV is no fun. I want to go out, but I can't because my legs are bad, and it's dangerous to go on long trips by car. So I lie down and reminisce. The one thing that never changes, no matter how many years pass, is the taste of ochazuke. Goodbye.
"Send me some radish seeds."
February 8, 1970
Rei-san, I know it's a hassle, but could you please send me a cup of shiso seeds and a cup of tokinashi daikon seeds? You don't need permission to send vegetable seeds. Buy some fresh ones at the nearest seed store, put them in a cloth bag, and send them by regular parcel post. Airmail is expensive.
I love grated daikon and shiso boiled in soy sauce, but it's hard to get shiso from Japan because it's expensive. Daikon grows well, but in the summer, it doesn't grow well except when it's boiled . I grow a lot of it here.
The cold front that we were worried about two or three days ago suddenly turned around and headed toward the Gulf of Mexico, so we were spared from any damage. Today, it's raining heavily again, it's quite cold, and I'm feeling a bit sick, so I'm taking a rest. There are almost no prospects for a crop. Thanks to the efforts of the county agricultural association engineer, we decided to order 10,000 seedlings of Port Ricoh Cavian (?) from an island in the sea and make a trial crop.
(Note) Toki-nashi = a type of radish. It does not sprout easily and is cold-resistant, so it can be harvested at any time of the year. The roots are soft and suitable for pickling. It is also called Toki-shirazu.
Memories of Kyoto before moving to the US
March 2, 1970
Rei-san. Is there anything different after that? I'm sorry I haven't replied to your letter. I'm not feeling well and I'm busy, so I don't feel like writing slowly. The weather here is still unstable as usual, and it's gotten cold suddenly in the past few days, so I'm wrapped up in an electric futon at night.
The letter I just received from Sumitomo Bank says that Kyoto has also been cold for the past few days. 64 years ago, this month, I was in Kyoto. I had bad eyesight, so I went there for an examination. At that time, Kyoto was not very lively outside of Kyogoku.
I didn't have any money, so I couldn't see much, and I only passed through Kyogoku once. There was a sweet potato shop at the end of Kyogoku. I often went there to buy some. For two sen, I could buy more than I could eat at once. The cherry blossoms in Arashiyama had already fallen, but young girls were washing green fish in deep sandals in the nearby river. Rubber boots didn't exist yet at that time.
I went to a used bookstore in my neighborhood and read books while standing there. The lady at the store seemed nice and didn't look particularly unhappy. But when I went to America, I bought a large volume on ancient Japanese history and an adventure novel called Monogatari. When I told her I was going to America and would read them on the ship, she said, "Well," and started crying.
I was born in Japan and know very little about Japan. However, I have only seen Mt. Fuji. When the ship left Yokohama and approached Oshima, that heroic figure suddenly appeared above the clouds. "The white fan falls...the sky of the East Sea." It is a famous phrase that will last for ages.
Rei-san, I've gone off on a tangent. Actually, I have a special request for you. I want some seeds from the Yusura plum, which is common in Miyazu. I think they can also be found in Kyoto. I'd like you to buy the fruit when it ripens in May, wash the seeds thoroughly, dry them in the shade, and then send me about one go of them by airmail. When it gets hot, regular mail doesn't arrive well.
The Osaka Expo is a big hit. I think Kyoto and Nara will be packed with visitors. I've received letters from my mother and Akiko.
(40 avocados, 20 mangoes, and papaya seeds)
March 14, 1970
Rei-san, have the magazine I sent you on February 4th arrived yet? Today is March 14th, so it's a bit too long. If it hasn't arrived yet, please contact the post office. The book you sent me (a long time ago) hasn't arrived yet either. It's gotten cold here suddenly, and the north wind is howling every day.
I planted 30 persimmon seedlings yesterday, and today I planted them. Most of them are seedless (they are called Mino persimmons in Miyazu). There are about 10 varieties for testing. You can eat Japanese persimmons after three years. The saying "peaches take three years to grow, chestnuts take eight years to grow" refers to the time when the fruit is planted, but the ones I have now are all grafted, so you don't have to wait eight years.
I have to plant 40 avocados, 20 mangoes, and papaya seeds. It's too late because of the cold. That small car has arrived. It's fast enough that even a child can drive it easily. If it comes with a lawn mower, I can mow the lawn in the garden. On TV tonight, they said that the Osaka Expo, which opens tomorrow, may be postponed because of the snow. I received your long letter yesterday. Akiko's illness seems to be taking longer than expected, but I think that's because of the weather. She'll get better soon.
It's cold again tonight. I wrote this letter in bed, wrapped in an electric blanket.
April 13, 1970
"A plan was hatched for his niece Reiko to travel to the United States and live with Sukeji..."
Rei-san, I received a notice from a friend I had asked about your trip to the United States. The copy is shown on the left. He is also on good terms with the newspaper reporter Yoshizu-san, whose father is a former lecturer at the University of Hawaii and lives in Hawaii.
There are other ways, but they are quite troublesome and take time. If you are lucky, you can come here in a month or two. It's better to hurry. If you are in good health, apply for a passport at the nearest U.S. embassy.
I think there are quite a few people you know who have traveled abroad. I recommend you inquire about any important matters.
Nothing has changed for me. It has suddenly become more summer-like recently, and I can spend the day naked. The pineapples were an unexpected job, and then there was heavy rain, so there is little hope of recovery now. Everything is fate. I pushed through my illness and did my best. I have no regrets now. If you still can't find the Yusura plums I ordered, please contact the Agricultural Experiment Station.
"It seems like my daughter is coming."
April 27, 1970
Rei-san, you don't have to worry about the travel expenses. I've arranged it from the beginning. I'll send it as soon as I get my passport. My unknown niece is coming soon. Somehow, I feel like my own daughter is coming. Sixty years of solitary life seems like a dream.
Mrs. Virginia Snyder is a female journalist, and Miyoko Yoshizu, who lives here, is a sewing teacher in Washington. Her father is a naturalized first generation Japanese, and a former lecturer at the University of Hawaii. He is now retired and living in Hawaii. She is also the one who is thinking of you going to America. Please read over the copy of the letter I sent you from Yoshizu earlier and the copy of the letter I sent you from Snyder this time.
I received the book and the seeds. The shiso grew well, but it's a little late in the season. I wonder if it will grow. I haven't planted the radishes yet.
I also received a letter from Akiko with a photo inside. I think everyone has seen the letters you have sent me asking for letters. I'll write something special one of these days. My right hand is still disabled and hurts a little when I try to use it, but it doesn't prevent me from writing. Writing Japanese characters is getting more and more difficult. I forget characters and can't remember the names of things, so I have no choice but to look them up in an English-Japanese dictionary.
My handwriting may be difficult to read, but even if I had the free time, I would not feel like writing in modern printed style.
It's just after 10pm. I'm hungry. I'll make some tea and eat the cake I was given. I'm currently planning a new house to welcome you. Even though you've come here, you'll be inconvenienced in many ways because you grew up in the city, but you'll have to bear it. For a while. You'll get used to it.
"If you think Japan is better, you can just go back."
May 30, 1970
Rei-san, I received your letter dated the 15th. I read it over and over again and I understand that you want to be invited over. As Mr. Snyder and others say, I also think that it would be easiest and best to come as a tourist first. Nowadays, coming as a tourist from Japan does not require any complicated procedures. To invite someone over, you need a guarantor. You have to take full responsibility not just in name but in fact.
For that you need to have the qualifications, that is, sufficient assets. Have you read the English sponsorship? If you come as a tourist, you can stay for a year. America is not so good these days. You will be surprised when you come. If you stay for a year, you will get a general idea of what it is like.
If you think it's better than Japan, you can apply for permanent residence. If you think Japan is better, you can go back. Don't be shy about anything. It's all up to you. I take full responsibility for how you get here. Please don't misunderstand this. If you come as part of a tour group, it's convenient and it saves money.
I'm not in a hurry, so if I take a boat, I can stop by Hawaii. I've been resting for about three weeks, and my hands and feet are a little worse than before, but the length of my fingers has improved a little and I can write without any problems.
The 15th was a big anniversary for me. 64 years ago, I arrived here safely after a month-plus trip... an unexplored land with 100 degree heat, mosquitoes and heat...
The rainy season has started again here, and it's been raining every day. It's a perfect day for planting seedlings, so I planted 50 avocados (5 varieties) despite my sore arms. I'm also planning to plant about 50 mango trees. In three years, we'll have good fruit. I can picture you picking them.
Pinky (the cat) is doing well. He's violent and out of control. He scratches everywhere, and my feet are covered in scratches. Yesterday he kicked a potted plant off the shelf. Luckily it was on the sofa, so it didn't break. I can't work these days. I have no appetite. Everything I eat tastes bad. I spend most of my days eating rice with tea.
(Titles omitted)
© 2020 Ryusuke Kawai
